“I’m Not There” made me wish I wasn’t there to see it

I’m Not There is the biopic of Bob Dylan, who is portrayed by six different actors including a young black boy (Marcus Carl Franklin) and a woman (Cate Blanchett).

My disdain for Bob Dylan is now closely rivaled by my disdain for this film.  Dylan’s garrulous ramblings and “tortured soul” persona are backed only by a God awful singing voice and next to no real talent.  Talk about a guy who was just at the right place at the right time.

But I digress.  Let me start with the positive.  The concept of using six very different actors to exemplify six different eras of Dylan’s life/music is very unique and very interesting.  The acting is superb from all the actors, but Blanchett really did an amazing job in her role and was by far the closest to Dylan in mannerisms and speech.

The problem is this: there is no structure, form, direction, or cohesiveness to any part of this film.  It’s a jumbled mess of patchwork scenes that start nowhere and end in approximately the same place.  Then there are the moments that are just ridiculous. 

No doubt that art-house fanatics will make it a point to tell me that the film is atmospheric and magnificent, and I just don’t “get it”.  I get that it sucked.

In addition, the whole movie feels more like a two hour and fifteen minute praise for Dylan instead of offering the tiniest bit of insight into him or his music.  And can someone please tell me why the hell there are sperm whales in a river, and magazines models are moving in the pages?  (Watch this atrocity and you’ll see what I mean)

I’m sure I’ll get panned by every Dylan fan and artsy-fartsy type who wants to lift their nose and tell me how damn beautiful and genius this film was, but to be honest, I’ve had bowel movements that I found more entertaining to look at than this movie.